To Move a Star
by Ravenwoodwitch
Summary: After suffering defeat a the hands of a human girl, Jareth has lost his grasp over the Labyrinth. Than, by a chance mistake, a mysterious creature falls out of the sky into his domain, carrying the only means of him to regain control of his Labyrinth. Can he persuade her to hand it over? Furthermore, what of the evil that follows this mysterious creature with horrifying intent?
1. Chapter 1

Welcome reader. My goodness, it's been a long time.

I have gone through and edited these chapters to the best of my abilities. I intend to finish this one with all due speed and move onto a new project that is very exciting. I hope you enjoy this and please message me if you see anything wrong, or leave a review to tell me what worked and didn't work. I love hearing all forms of criticism, so please don't be shy.

Disclaimer: _Labyrinth _is owned by Jim Henson studios, _Stardust_ is owned by Neil Gaimon, Marv Films, and Paramount pictures. I am just borrowing them both to spin a yarn.

In dedication to David Bowie, whose music is immortal in my mind.

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**"What lies behind us, and what lies ahead of us, are tiny matters compared to what lives within us."**

-Henry David Thoreau

* * *

_Chapter 1_

_~1~_

* * *

"Shut up!"

"_No, you shut up!_"

Shu, a gray, pale, short goblin glared menacingly at the intricately carved stone head. The head, one of many lining the walls, stared back at her with a decidedly unimpressed look.

"_You'll have to blink sometime,_" it said flatly. "_Now Go back while you still can._"

Shu smacked the head, only to cradle her gangly hand in pain. Amidst riotous laughter, Shu charged after her husband.

"First, we get thrown into a dark, damp, oubliette, and now we have to wonder this stupid maze," she grumbled. "I will _kill_ your cousins if we get out of this, mark my words."

Said husband was one of the taller variety, with mud-colored skin, pure white hair that brushed his shoulders. and a hooked nose covered in warts. He held the torch aloft, adding a yellowish tint to his green eyes.

"We're almost out," he said. "I know where I'm going."

Shu's glare shifted to him.

"Sure you do, Ruz," she said. "Hence why we've passed that rock five times now,"

"I said we're fine."

"And I said you're an idiot."

"_Soon it will be too late,_" A distant one shouted. Shu jumped, earning a smirk from her husband.

"Frightened of a little noise?" he noted.

"No," Shu sniffed. "If these things couldn't scare some nitwit looking for her bawling baby brother, then why would I-"

Ruz slapped a hand over Shu's eyes were shifting all around the tunnel, eyeing both the natural cave walls and brick replacements with equal apprehension. He turned his gaze back on Shu and pulled her closer.

"He'll _hear_ you," he hissed.

The walls shivered slightly, creating a low rumble. At the sound of moving earth, both goblins turned behind them. With a low twittering sound (Shu could have sworn it was a giggle), the dirt ceiling above them began to shift dangerously. Ruz yanked Shu back as a wall of dirt fell in a leviathan fashion, blocking the only exit in the tunnel. When the dust cleared, they were looking at a solid wall and an echoing sound that could have been mistaken for laughter.

"Now look what you've done," Ruz said. "You loud-mouthed bitch."

Shu was stunned for a few seconds before anger rose in her chest. She narrowed her eyes and pushed Ruz's hand away.

"Oh, what are you afraid of, Lack-wit?" she said. "_He_ didn't do that; he hasn't done anything like that in weeks!"

"That had to be _him, _you moron! Who else has that kind of power?"

"Not our Fancy-pantsed king." Shu rolled her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, _someone_ hasn't been nearly as threatening as normal."

"Maybe not in front of you," Ruz muttered. "The several goblins he dumped headfirst into the bog would disagree."

"So he's a sore loser," Shu replied casually. "I ain't scared."

Arguing was pointless, so Ruz turned to keep walking instead. As the two continued their trek, the stone faces continued their tirade...but, halfway through, it was clear that whatever was behind them was running out of steam. Curious, Shu cocked her head to the side and listened.

"_This is not… uh…. the way!_" one tried.

"_Be…be something..._" The head contorted it's eyes and nose in thought.

"_Beware, dummy,_" It's neighbor said. "_Beware!_"

"You see?" she gloated. "Even these poor sods are more bark than bite."

"They always were," Ruz said. "That proves nothing."

"Sure it does!" The goblin lady huffed. "How else do you think we managed to escape?"

Ruz sniffed. "I figured out the broom closet trick."

"Which the likes of you shouldn't have even been able to find!" Shu slapped the back of his head. "His royal prissiness has lost his touch, admit it."

That low rumble got louder, beginning to sound more and more like a dog's menacing growl. What little light they had through the cracks and crevices of the dirt began to shrink until everything went pitch black. Feeling her confidence take a dive, Shu stuck close to her husband.

In a final response to the goblin's treason, one of the stone faces jerked open its eyes. Feeling a sudden burst of energy, it opened its maw and let out one last bellow.

"_**BEWARE! FOR THE PATH YOU TAKE WILL LEAD TO CERTAIN DESTRUCTION!"**_

With a shriek, Shu barreled over her husband and down the tunnel. Ruz went splat against the dirt, and his wife vanished into the goblin lifted his head and spat out a mouth of dirt.

"Damn woman," He said. "Get back here!"

Shu continued to run, hitting walls and flailing in the dark. She hit something hard face first, curling around it, and fell to the floor. "Owwww…"

"Baby doll, you okay?" Ruz called. "I'm coming!"

Shu snorted at that and stuck both grubby hands in her apron's pockets. She clasped a small match and struck it against her nose. The tiny light cut a small hole in the dark, creating harsh shadows. She'd landed in a square alcove made from solid brown brick with cement squares for floors. Each corner had its own personal cluster of cobwebs and the ceiling sagged from rot and age. There was a ladder at the far east corner, but Shu was hardly giving it the time of day. At the center of the room was a pedestal, only about three feet in height, made of old red brick. At the top, a silver owl claw clutched something sparkly.

Shu held the match closer and saw that it was little more than a small, glass sphere, swimming with a rainbow of colors, but lacking any luster. She shrugged and plucked it off the silver claw for closer inspection.

"Bloody hell, what are you?" she asked.

Ruz arrived moments later. His eyes landed on the crystal and the color drained from his face.

"You...p-put that back!" he stuttered.

Shu looked up. "What are your knickers in a twist for?"

"That's one of his majesty's magical crystals, now put it back."

"Is it now?" Shu said and grinned. "Aren't we lucky…"

Ruz ceased his impromptu heart attack, mouth hanging open. "Are you _daft_? He'll kill us if you so much as scratch it."

"Without his magic 'thingamajigger?" Shu smirked, throwing and catching it.

Ruz frowned. "He's got more."

"Than he won't miss one."

"I'm not taking a nose-dive into the bog of eternal stench over _you_," Ruz sputtered. "Put. It. Back!"

Shu frowned, and slowly backed away. "No. I'm gonna keep it and take over that damn city. And if you're smart you'll help me out so we can share."

Ruz wasn't smart, but he was smarter than this. The tunnel walls were shifting much quicker now, and the room was looking smaller in the minutes time. There was no way either of them would get out if she kept talking like that, kept staring at that crystal ball with the same wild look in her eyes. The male goblin went still, and Shu finally caught his eye.

"...I did it for you, love," he said. Then, as she looked on, he dropped the torch into the muddy water.

The crystal was ripped from Shu's hands as the darkness enveloped them both. She gasped, and Ruz made his quick exit up the ladder. Shu's arms began to grasp and grab wildly.

"COME BACK HERE! GIVE ME THAT!"

Ruz knocked open the lid to the tunnel, emerging out of an urn. He was in the garden section now, surrounded on all side by box hedges. They used to be clean and sharp, but now looked much more unruly and faded in color. Even the statues situated near them, commissions from Jareth himself, looked like they were crumbling. But Ruz refused to ponder on bad art and vaulted himself out of the turn and onto the cobblestones.

Ruz rolled onto his back to catch his breath. It looked like the sky was just starting to darken, and little stars began to peer out from the clouds. It was pretty, pretty enough to almost distract him from just how much trouble they were in. But, hearing the huff and puff of his wife struggle up the ladder, he forced himself back to his feet.

His wife poked her head out behind him, eyes wide with rage. Ruz shook his head and held the little ball up high.

"It's for your own good!" he shouted and threw it as hard as he could. It soared up into the sky, far far away, while Shu tackled her husband and tried to strangle him. The crystal reached the peak of its arc, ready to fall back down when a sudden gust of air blew it back up at impossible heights. By the wind, by magic, or perhaps fate, that little ball soared up to the heavens.

* * *

~2~

* * *

Yvaine had been minding her own business when it happened. In fact, she had done little more that night then open her eyes.

The star stretched her pale limbs with a yawn. She sat up and allowed herself to start glowing at full, her white light illuminating her familiar celestial home. The rose reds and bright oranges were giving way to the black velvet night, with various rocks and gasses to greet her tired eyes. As the night began to settle in, Yvaine saw her family slowly fill the sky with red, blue, and even brilliant white light. The kaleidoscope of colors and sights were old news to her now and had been for the past thousands of years.

Sybil, Yvaine's nearest sibling, rose moments later, her blue aura beginning to softly shimmer in the night sky.

"Good Evening," Yvaine smiled. Sybil groaned and rubbed her eyes.

"You're always up too early," the younger star moaned.

Yvaine chuckled and gave her a push. "Come on, come on! It's starting!"

Sybil groaned again but straightened out anyway. Yvaine impatiently waited for her sister's white-blue aura to reach full radiance before eagerly scanning the ground below them. The two were poised above a stone labyrinth, ancient and massive, with oodles of twists and turns. It alternated between traditional stone walls, thick woods, and intricately trimmed gardens, and constantly shifted in design. Yvaine took a moment to admire it before centering in on the castle in the middle, specifically to the western tower.

"There he is," she whispered.

Sybil rolled her eyes. "It's just an owl."

The creature, pristine white with chocolate brown wings, was more than an owl. Yvaine found his heart-shaped face to be curious somehow, thickly-outlined, with one eye darker than the other. It always held itself in the most regal fashion, never slumping, and preened itself to no end. Yvaine found it about two hundred years back and was still unsure of how this lovely creature connected to the terrifying maze below.

"It's more than that," Yvaine insisted, gray eyes narrowing. "Nothing is ever as it seems; you should know that after living here for millennia."

"You should be bored with it after two," Sybil countered. "How bloody interesting can a fluffy bird in a stone cage be?"

"Shush, there he goes!"

At a sudden updraft, the owl spread its wings and took to the skies. A smile stretched across the star's face as she watched the beautiful creature survey the labyrinth, flying about each section in graceful circles. The star put her hands under her chin and watched the elegant flight with wistful eyes. Her sister eyed the owl with an ever growing sense of boredom, yawned, and glanced back at her sister.

"Stop that," Sybil said.

Yvaine blinked. "Stop what?"

"That kicked-puppy look on your face." Sybil frowned. "What's wrong?"

Yvaine didn't speak for a few moments. She sighed and glanced back at the owl, watching it look over the bog. "You were right about one thing, Sybil," she said. "I am bored. Bored and jealous."

Sybil gawked. "J-jealous? Of what?"

"Of that," Yvaine pointed to the owl, "of the goblins, of humans, of everyone, really."

"But why?" Sybil grasped her sister's shoulders. "You're a _star_! You shine brightly, you're magical, and you're beautiful. All those people you listed are usually jealous of _you_."

"But they're not stuck here," Yvaine murmured. "I'm bored of just sitting here and watching everything fly by me. Those little goblins are more interesting than you think. I saw a whole family toss two of them in the oubliette last night."

"That's wretched."

"That's interesting. And that owl-" she groaned. "Oh, he's a tease. He can go anywhere he feels like it, fly away wherever his fancies take him. Me…I won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Yvaine's heart began to ache, watching the owl circle back towards the thick woods. Sybil wrapped her bright arms around Yvaine's shoulders, and Yvaine gratefully leaned back.

"You have us at least."

The owl suddenly let out a squawk-like noise, wobbling in flight and hitting the breaks. It flapped stationary for several minutes as Sybil gave her sister's shoulder a shake.

"Yvaine, look! Look!"

Yvaine followed Sybil's finger. Two Goblins rose out of the garden section of the Labyrinth, one holding something shiny. Yvaine frowned and quickly caught sight of her owl. It was heading for the two goblins on the ground, and was preparing to dive...but for what?

Sybil suddenly screamed. "Look out!"

Yvaine turned on reflex. A bright object collided with her chest to the sound of shattering glass.

The star screamed and flailed. The wind rushed past and burned her cheeks, her home fading out of sight. She heard her family scream, the moon cry out, and her own piercing shriek as the ground drew closer and closer.

Yvaine landed with a sickening crack. As pain shot up her right leg, she managed to see her owl swoop down near her landing. Tired, hurting, and more scared than she'd ever been, Yvaine closed her eyes and tried to let the darkness take her down.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: _Labyrinth _is owned by Jim Henson studios, _Stardust_ is owned by Neil Gaimon, Marv Films, and Paramount pictures. I am just borrowing them both to spin a yarn.

* * *

**"Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall."**

\- Ray Bradbury

* * *

_Chapter 2_

_~1~_

* * *

As the star slowly regained consciousness, she realized that there wasn't a muscle in her that felt safe to move. Each end of her bristled with pain, rapidly drawing her out of the dark. Eventually, when her wits were finally about her, she felt like she was sitting on a pile of nails. She groaned quietly and gingerly opened her eyes.

She saw a black velvet sky, punctured with little white lights, stars that were now in hysterics. Yvaine frowned and sat up, back aching in protest. The beautiful, colorful dust and rock that made up her world was far away, replaced by loose-rolling hills, connected to an empty field. The place had only a few trees, none of them as green as she'd been told they'd be, and her owl was nowhere to be found. Dead plants were at the lip of the crater, and disturbed gravel fell in every so often. She was surrounded, territory unfamiliar, and it made fear swell quickly in her chest.

That fear mixed with despair and an irrational rush of anger. In that rush, she violently pawed around her.

"Blasted thing, where is it!" she shouted. "I'll smash the bloody thing! I'll-"  
The offending object appeared missing. She growled and put her face in her hands, feeling the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

Cybill, Mirana, Artex, she thought, what do I do now?

There was a soft sound by her left ear. Yvaine's head jerked, catching sight of something white, brown and fluffy in the trees. It was perched on a branch, watching her with mismatched eyes. It looked dignified in its stature and watched her with a deep intensity beyond its young appearance. It took a moment, but Yvaine did recognize the austere face staring back at her and felt an odd sense of relief.

"There you are," she breathed. "I don't suppose you know how to send me back, hm?"

The owl hooted back sharply, and Yvaine chuckled. While this exchange was of little practical use, it gave her enough levity to put her thoughts back in order. She looked to the right, seeing a massive stone wall that stretched on for miles north and south. Yvaine decided this had to be the western wall of the Labyrinth, but where to go next remained a mystery.

"I did say I wanted a try at this," Yvaine said. With a helpless shrug, she moved to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that."

The sudden voice knocked Yvaine back on her bum. To her left was a tall, lithe male with a lean face and drastically high cheekbones. His eyes were mismatched eyes, one blue one brown, and his blond hair cut off just above his elbows. He was dressed in a red-velvet tunic, billowy at the elbows, a silver-trimmed black waistcoat, and tight, gray leather pants.

The man leaned over the crater inquisitively, a crescent charm around his neck swinging forward. He eyed her for a moment and tilted his head almost playfully.

"It's broken," he said, voice silvery.

Yvaine frowned. "What is?" she asked.

"Your leg." He pointed to the offending appendage with a black riding crop. "Unless you normally bend it that direction."

Yvaine followed his gaze to her left leg and gasped. While she had no feeling in the limb to speak of (never a good sign,) the sight of it, twisted in entirely the wrong direction, suddenly coaxed the star to make quite the face. She groaned and shifted her weight before wincing with a hiss.

"Oh damn," she swore."Great. Just great."

The figure smirked, riding crop swinging like a pendulum. "Such a pity, really. Though, I could fix it…"  
Yvaine froze. "You could?"

He nodded but remained silent. Yvaine frowned and leaned forward expectantly.

"...And…?" She gestured to her leg. "You're not doing it because… ?"

The stranger's face lost its playful look. "Because your arrival was hardly expected now, was it? How do I know you aren't dangerous, hm?"

"Dangerous?" the Star had a sudden rage. "Dangerous?! You...YOU TWIT!"

The star clawed onto her hands and knees, now ignoring the pain in her leg. With newly fed rage she began throwing dirt, rocks, and anything else she could grab at his handsome head. The figure stepped back in surprise, just barely dodging a stone.

"You twit! You dunderhead! YOU IDIOT!" she shouted. "I was the one knocked out of the bloody sky by some stupid bauble! How can you leave me here, injured and alone when I was MINDING MY OWN BLOODY BUSINESS?!"

Another glob of mud went flying at his head. The figure lifted a hand up last minute and froze it in mid-air. Yvaine gasped, and just barely managed to dodge as it went flying back towards her. The stranger threw back his head in laughter. Yvaine shot him a glare from the ground.

"You're dangerous either way, aren't you?" he mocked, before finally settling down. "What are you?"

Yvaine wrinkled her nose."You first. Who are you?"

"Oh, now we want to talk." The figure rolled his eyes. "You may call me Jareth."

Jareth. The star let the odd name roll around her mind for a bit, then spoke again. "I'm Yvaine. And I'm a star, obviously."

Jareth smirked again. "Yes...obviously."

That smile didn't reach his eyes, which were looking at her with a frightening amount of restraint. She met that gaze with a fierce look of defiance; she was not at fault here. She was the one who had been smacked by some magical glass thing and had made the most painful entrance she had ever made in her life. How dare he act like she was some kind of intruder.

Well, I did throw mud at him, Yvaine consented. But he only has a right to be angry about that.

"But you are rather defenseless here, aren't you?" Jareth said. "So I suppose I can mend bones and send you on your merry way."

Yvaine blinked and grew panicked. "What? You can't be serious."

Jareth feigned surprise. "Changed our minds, have we?" he asked. "What became of 'twit' and 'idiot,' I wonder…?"

Yvaine began to seethe with anger, but a wayward glance at the distant canyon cooled her temper. It was laden with heavy foliage, and Yvaine knew she lacked the hunting skills necessary to survive in it. Turning back around, she was dismayed to see that he still had that arrogant, adolescent grin.

"I won't make it." It felt demeaning to admit that. "Could I...can I possibly stay with you?"

Jareth shrugged. "If you wish."

There was a private joke there, somewhere. Yvaine turned away with a huff, only earning a chuckle from the strange man. Yvaine turned and squeaked, suddenly finding Jareth kneeling over her leg. She hadn't even heard him move.

"How'd you-" she started. Jareth quirked a brow at her, and Yvaine blushed. "Right...magic, sorry."

He rolled his eyes, but he kept true to his word. To Yvaine's wild embarrassment, he hiked her dress just over her knee and ran a gloved hand over her skin. She gasped from the sudden touch, and from the motion of her femur, sliding back into place. It should have hurt, her brain insisted, and yet nothing of the sorts emerged. In the end, the only real reaction she had was the bright red on her cheeks.

That would have been the end of it, but soon two strong arms lifted her up off the ground, and onto her mended legs. Her other leg was weak from the landing and buckled, forcing her to grab his waistcoat for balance.

"Someone's eager," Jareth said. Yvaine glared at him.

"Don't flatter yourself."

Jareth seemed unphased, as the surrounding valley began to fade out. He put on arm under the crook of her knee and lifted her up like a new bride. Yellows, browns, and golds of the night began to vanish from sight.

"One question," Jareth asked, startling her from her thoughts. "What became of this bauble?"

Yvaine shrugged. "I'm not sure. Was it important?"

"No," Jareth spoke in a clipped tone now, and it didn't take much for Yvaine to realize how much he was lying.

* * *

~2~

* * *

Not many goblins, or anyone one else for that matter, liked to venture outside of the Labyrinth. Even fewer would consider what might have been behind that gravel valley, to wind swept plains that spoke of life's frail chance of survival. But, to those brave enough to venture forth (and lucky enough to survive) there was something to fear beyond those borders. There was something deadly beyond the Labyrinth, beyond the valley, and even past the mountains that hid much of the landscape from discerning eyes.

Past it all, comfortably situated in the scorched canyon, was a castle that had been rusting over now for millennia. It was hardly tall. Instead, it extended back out for a mile, baring the shape of a triangular prism with four large turrets marking its front and back. It was iron-grey, with black vines crawling on all sides, and disturbing stained-glass windows lining its long ends. Not much wildlife ventured near its heavy wooden door, and what did never came out.

But no animals would be taken from kith and kin today. Instead, on the cobblestone doorstep, was an old wretch as poor-looking as her house. Empusa let her blue eyes eagerly scan the sky, having watched the whole scene from its inception. This old witch had been more than privy to what was going on, and her aged frame could barely contain her excitement. She gave a nearly toothless grin and began a hacking laugh.

"Oh yes!" She trilled. "Up, sisters! Up with your lazy bones!"

Empusa ran back inside, holding the tattered fur of her skirts, gray hair (or what little remained) streaming behind her. The castle more resembled a banquet hall once inside, consisting of a long hallway, lined with cage after cage of horrified animals. At the far end of the hall was a fountain, with two short staircases leading a few feet above the ground. That raised platform held most of the shocking paraphernalia, the most striking being a blood-soaked stone table in the center. Empusa rushed into one of the four turrets, cursing each crack of her knees as she ran up the stairs. She threw open the door and rushed into a dank bedroom.

"Lamia, Morimo, up!" she repeated. "GET UP!"

Two old witches woke with a start. They dressed in the same tattered clothes and even boasted the same full-fur hat on their heads (likely to hide the lack of hair on their scalps.) Neither of them looked too pleased to be roused and even less pleased when they saw it was by their older sister.

"What now?" Morimo, the middle and most rotund of the sisters, spoke first with a yawn. "See another shape in the clouds again?"

"No, you hag!" Empusa said. "It's a star! It fell from the sky!"

In a tangle of fur and limbs, all three sisters rushed back downstairs. Morimo plucked a squirrel from a cage while Lamia, the youngest, found herself a knife. They threw the poor creature on the stone table and ran the dagger from his nose to his navel.

As his guts spilled over the table, the girls read it with greedy eyes.

"Landed near that overgrown maze," Empusa said. "And it looks like she has an extra passenger."

"Oooh, it's his," Lamia said, eyes clouding over. "No wonder he's so washed up."

"He won't be if he gets that back!" Morimo dragged her fingers along some intestines. "What's to stop him from doing us in if that happens?"

"Then we have to get to the star," Empusa concluded. "But… who's going?"

All three of them froze. With an eerie grace, each lady turned to stare at the other, murder and ambition dancing like candle flames in their eyes. Slowly, they closed those eyes and turned back to the spilled viscera. All three stuck out a hand and grabbed madly at the carnage. But, as Lamia opened one eye, her selective fingers made it very clear the trust that was in this household.

"I got his lung!" declared Morimo.

Empusa opened her eyes and frowned. "I got his spleen."

"I got his heart!" Lamia held her prize high and defiantly. The glares she received from both sisters would have intimidated anyone less selfish than she.

"She'll have to take the last of it then," Empusa said.

Morimo shook her head. "She'll waste it on that blasted maze."

Lamia chuckled, giving her old hips a shake. "Trust me, doll," she said. "He'll come to me."

Empusa pushed between them both, eyeing a box on the top shelf. "Here's hoping your delusions actually bear fruit, for once."

The three witches continued to bore holes with their eyes before they finally realized that the only way to move forward was to bite tongues and silently plan sororicide at a later date. With a huff, all three aimed their decrepit fingers at a box on the top shelf, located between jars of pickled animal parts. At their magical behest, three silvery, thin chains fell to the side. The lock clicked, and the wooden box floated down, a blinding light just peeking out of the cracks. It landed in Lamia's open palm, and the witch gleefully threw open the lid.

"The last of the reserves," she said, unable to stop gloating. Inside, a bright object was pulsing softly. "It's all mine…"

Empusa reached out and ripped off Lamia's hat, taking about half her sister's hair with it. Lamia shot her a glare and took the reserves in her hand. Slowly, looking the older sister dead in the eye, Lamia shoved the light directly into her mouth. She refused to close her eyes until she swallowed, and it hit her belly.

In a matter of seconds, the magic violently dragged back the sands of time. A warm feeling pulsed through her body, manifesting in a bright light. Each pulse nipped a wrinkle on her skin, tucked in a sagging point, and began to remold her like warm clay. The apples of her cheeks glided back into place; her hair regrew in lush, lovely blond curls down her delicate back; her legs returned to their sculpted form, and her arms became long and lithe for the umteenth time at last. Each bit of her was nipped, tucked, and tightened before her whole form became luminous and blinding white. Like an oven, it set everything in place, before dying down and out of sight.

Lamia opened her ocean blue eyes. Her face was smug, taking joy both in her returned vitality and her sister's burning hot jealousy. Her body reflected the woman she always pictured in her head (and, with a turn to view her backside, she saw there were a few extra features.) Lamia quickly dropped her ragged dress from her body and let her sisters get a good look at her new prize. If the sisters weren't serious about back-stabbing before, they were definitely considering it now.

Gawking put aside, Morimo fetched a trunk from the back storage. After Lamia slipped on a black, form-fitting chemise, Empusa took the "honor" of fitting the tight, scarlet kirtle to her sister's form. While she made sure the bodice would be as uncomfortable as possible, Morimo adjusted the gold-lined pleats and the bustle in the back. Empusa slipped black gloves onto Lamia's fingers and strapped a brown leather bag to her side.

"These will aid you in the tricks of the Labyrinth." She smirked. "Should you be unable to attract the king."

Morimo handed over a black-obsidian knife, blade cut at a jagged angle. "For defense, and the star. Don't break it."

Empusa plucked a brown leather pouch from the fireplace. "Shall we get gone already?" she said, irritably. "Time is of the essence!"

Lamia snatched the bag. "I'll see if he plays nice."

"And if he doesn't?" Empusa haughtily inquired.

"Then we'll kill him," Lamia said. "Simple."

The two sisters locked themselves in a glaring contest. Empusa won, but only due to the necessity of the magic before them. Lamia, now the Witch Queen, took a pinch of dark powder from the bag and let her magic pulse through each and every crumb. She threw the powder on the floor, and a dusty tornado billowed around her. She shot her sisters one last haughty look before she vanished with the smoky clouds. The dingy castle was left to Empusa and Morimo, both looking sour.

"Show off," Empusa droned, rolling squirrel blood between her fingers.

Morimo grunted in dismissal, setting her aching bones down in a rotten chair. Once settled, the rotund lady tilted her head in thought.

"Methinks she had crow's feet."

Empusa smiled.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

The observant will notice that it has been _forever_ since this one updated. That ends today.

If you see anything fishy in this story feel free to mention it in a review. If you like what you see, don't forget to follow and favorite. Remember to share with your friends if you like the story, and thanks for taking the time to keep with me this long.

Disclaimer: _Labyrinth _is owned by Jim Henson studios, _Stardust_ is owned by Neil Gaimon, Marv Films, and Paramount pictures. I am just borrowing them both to spin a yarn.

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**"The art of pleasing is the art of deception."**

**-**Luc de Clapiers

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_Chapter 3_

_~1~_

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Jareth's spell took them to the far West Tower. Besides a personal library, mostly with spell books he didn't read anymore, the room contained a supply of crystals freshly charged, a desk for whatever excess work happened to cross his path and large windows for evening flights. With no stairs, no doors, and solid stone below, no one else was getting in without magic. Here Jareth found his solace, and here he would solve the biggest thorn in his side once and for all.

When the magic drained from him, Yvaine's full weight hit his arms. He ignored the ache of exhaustion and strode towards a white table in the back of the room. Yvaine scanned her surroundings and Jareth couldn't stop the swell of pride he felt when her eyes got wider. What, he wondered, had her so impressed? Was it the scarlet red rugs with gold lining, or perhaps a few of the tapestries hanging about? His subjects may have been filthy, but he was always a man of style.

"I'm glad it has your approval," he laughed. "Though not many people get to see this room. You're quite the lucky sky creature."

She shifted in his arms to face him. "Then why am I here?"

He caught her eye. What little magic he could spare ebbed away from him once again as the star's eyes glowed bright gold. He smirked devilishly at her and placed her on the table.

"To sleep," he said. "But don't worry. When you wake up, you won't ever have to see me again."

Panic painted over her pristine features before her eyelids closed of their own accord. Jareth cradled her head and lowered her down to the table surface. When the spell ended his vision swam aggressively and he fell to one knee. The world around him went from familiar to foreign, a random sea of stone that was just beyond his reach. His eyes begged him to rest, each muscle weeping for the soft feel of his mattress.

Instead of giving them rest, Jareth swore under his breath and dragged himself to the tray of crystals. He snatched the nearest one and ripped off his leather glove. As soon as his fingertips hit the surface, energy spiked inside it and poured through his veins. Jareth's breath finally evened out and he stood with little effort. In a matter of seconds, this kingdom once again fell into the palm of his hand.

Yet another disaster ended with perfect timing. At least that's what the king told himself, tossing the now empty vessel into the air a few times. He turned his gaze on the sleeping star and slipped his glove back on. Today, these little incidents would come to an end.

A wicked voice erupted in his ears. "Didn't get your beauty sleep, Goblin King?" it asked. "Restless nights could rob a man of _your_ beauty real fast."

The Goblin King rolled his eyes. It didn't take long for him to piece together which intruder this was -of The Lilium, only one was prone to condescending flattery. He put the crystal back on the tray and brushed off his clothes."Ah, Lamia, showing your face yet again are we?" he said. "I hope the years have been kind."

"Ah, Lamia, showing your face yet again are we?" he said. "I hope the years have been kind."

"Oh they have, my pretty little monarch," The witch giggled, but Jareth caught the edge in her tone. He turned towards the windowsill she sat on and his eyebrows went up.

"How did you …?" he started.

She slid off the stone with a laugh and ran a hand up her hip and chest. "You like?" she said. "I bet I look as delicious as the day we met. Would be wonderful to look as young as this, hm? To be your real self all over again?"

"Don't toy with me, witch," Jareth snapped. "You've hardly earned the right to fancy yourself so important to me. Why are you here?"

Rage ghosted over her features, quickly smothered in a smile. She approached him with a bounce to her step and slid over to his new guest. "I saw what knocked this creature from the sky, dear Jareth. One of your crystals, and yet am I correct in assuming this one has something precious inside it?"

Jareth narrowed his eyes. Lamia giggled again.

"I suppose you brought her here to get it back, gain back your kingdom and be 'great' yet again?" she continued. "Then don't waste of your magic on removing it, since you have precious little of it."

"And why would this be a waste?"

Lamia reached into a leather bag and pulled out a small vial of silver liquid. She uncorked the top and poured the contents into the air, where it spread out like water filling a tub. Lamia swirled the suspended liquid with her fingernail and spread it out even further. In the liquid, Jareth saw the star in the night sky and his crystal colliding in an explosion. It shattered against her, making Jareth clench his fists.

"It bonded to her heart as soon as it hit her, little king," Lamia said. "Whatever you held inside that crystal is now a part of her. The only way to take it back is to take her heart. And that's where we both get what we want."

She swished the liquid back into the bottle. At the cork of the bottle, brown spots freckled over Lamia's hands. She hid them from sight, but Jareth couldn't stop the wry look on his face.

"And why would you waste what _precious little_ magic you have on me?" he said. "I assume charity's beneath you, after all."

Lamia sneered and put a hand on her hip. It was only now that Jareth saw the jagged obsidian blades hanging from her belt, glinting with menace.

"It's simple, really," she said. "We carve it out and split it down the middle."

Jareth's stomach twisted. "You sound like one of _them_. I'd like to think myself _above_ the common rabble, you know."

"It's the simple solution," Lamia said with a shrug. "You get your Labyrinth back, and I keep my youth. My sisters are none the wiser, and you get to call the Witch Queen your ally… perhaps even, your lover?"

She put her palm against his chest for emphasis. Turning to the star again, Jareth felt a list of possibilities stretch out in his mind. He was hardly immortal, as the lines by his eyes were slowly proving each day. To have his power back, and the immortal heart of a star seemed an offer from destiny, far too succulent to pass up.

"Take my hand," she whispered, "and I shall be your slave."

Her words pierced his musings with violent force. Jareth batted her hand away and took a step back. "And what are the not-so-simple solutions?"

"She'd have to give it to you," Lamia said with a laugh. "Fall in love with you, as it were. But it would take far longer and more effort than it's worth."

"A simple seduction spell would fix that."

"No good. It only works if given freely, dear Goblin King, or it shall be useless." Lamia let her fingers rest invitingly on her chest, the other stroking her side. "You are bound once again by some very strict rules, I'm afraid. Why not take solace in someone who appreciates you, as opposed to this creature-"

Her eyes widened. Jareth's grew smaller, and he turned his back on her. "No."

"Don't be foolish," Lamia said quickly. "This is the best way to get what you want and more. What could you possibly lose from it?"

"Quite a bit if you're willing to turn on your sisters," he looked over his shoulder. "Go find your quick fix elsewhere, witchling. You're not nearly the prize you think you are."

Lamia's gasp turned to a growl as green magic flickered around her. "I am The Witch Queen, the most powerful child of the Lilium. Greater men than you would _beg_ for me to offer myself so willing. Or would you prefer a human girl with a screaming baby to the likes of me?"

Jareth's chest tightened. The magic in him ignited, extinguishing the brass torches and casting the room in darkness. "Leave me be."

"You'll regret this, you spoiled brat," Lamia's voice echoed with power. "Only fools make an enemy out of me. If you turn me down, I and my sisters will crush this pathetic Labyrinth to dust and make you our screaming slave. Submit, or die!"

Jareth grabbed a crystal from the table and flung it at the floor beneath her feet. As it smashed, the floor under her bubbled and stretched up around her. She fired several magical blasts of energy that erupted out the top before the stone cylinder closed over her. Like the swallow of a giant, it compressed itself and pushed the witch down and out of sight.

As the floor settled back to normal, Jareth took several deep breaths. The rash action had cost him, giving him one less chance to recharge. But seeing her disposed of felt far too satisfying, so he settled himself down in a chair with a pleased smile. He steadied himself and watched Yvaine shift to her right side. As a smile stretched over her features, a white glow began to radiate off her body. Jareth felt even less compelled to drive a knife through her chest now, watching her practically twinkle mere inches away from him. In fact, the few scratches he saw on her cheek and legs seemed like damages to a sculpture, in need of quick correction.

"With talk so mighty she flew away with the trash," he laughed. "Such power and no manners, what a pity..."

Yvaine shifted beside him. Jareth inclined his head and saw her smile in her sleep. As the corners of her mouth drew up, a white glow began to radiate off her body. Jareth felt even less compelled to drive a knife through her chest now, watching her practically twinkle mere inches away from him. He didn't know what compelled him to do so, but he reached out a hand and curled it around a strand of hair. To think, this tiny thing falling in love with a creature like him.

Unless...

His grin returned. Propelling himself up, Jareth laid a hand across her cheek. The magic misted over her and covered the top of her head, from the eyes to her hair. Jareth leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"I think we're both above barbarism, eh?" he said with a chuckle. "So, let's try a more... creative approach."

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_~2~_

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"Dammit!"

She'd let her guard down. He was weak, she told herself, desperate for human contact after a child bested him. Surely he'd bow to the simple solution, with the added persuasion of physical release. And this was where it got her: eaten and spat out like gum.

Jareth's spell carried her through the stone castle and dumped her unceremoniously in the junkyard. The Witch Queen rose to her feet, green magic still pulsing around her body, and dusted off the excess dirt. She swore violently with each swipe and didn't notice the image forming in a discarded silver tray.

"Acting unladylike won't help you now, Lammy."

Lamia rounded on the voice. Her hag sisters glared at her from the tray, crowding together to get a clear view of their fallen sibling.

"You'll be just like us if you keep wasting magic like that," Empusa said, walking away.

Lamia's breath hitched. She forced it to even out, smothering the green flames that billowed and spun. But, on catching her reflection in the mirror, she did see fine lines forming on her eyes. Not only had the bastard turned her down, but he'd forced her to grow wizened in the process.

"The childish brat will pay dearly," she intoned. "I will make him suffer and beg for me to take him back."

"The star, you fool!" Morimo grabbed the mirror. "Save it for when we have the star."

An animal shriek pierced the conversation. Lamia had Morimo turn her towards the sound. Empusa bent over the spilled entrails of a wolf, teeth grinding.

"Your useless prattle has cost us the star," she said. "He's aiming for her heart now too, the cheeky fool. If he gains both hearts there's no stopping him from pushing us out of the kingdom."

Lamia snorted. "He's barely had any magic ever since that girl bested him. What harm could he possibly do?"

Empusa shook her head. "Even a child is dangerous when given power, Lamia," she said, returning to Morimo's side. "The blood predicts he'll have her heart before the week is out, and it's all your fault."

"The blood is wrong. The star hates him, you saw for yourself. How could he possibly convince her to love someone so insufferable?"

Morimo snapped her fingers. The image in the tray shifted to Jareth with the star once again in his arms in a narrow hallway. Two goblin guards rushed ahead and opened the door to a bed chamber. Jareth placed Yvaine on a simple wooden bed. The bed grew as soon as she touched it, the wooden frame darkened in color and formed a white lace canopy top. Pale blue curtains draped over the windows and a white wardrobe fluttered into existence on the back wall.

The star stirred. _"What's going on?" _

Jareth's smile could not have looked more saccharine, or laced with any more poison. He reached down and brushed the hair off her cheek with a flick of his wrist.

"_You're home, love,"_ he purred. _"I'm so glad you're safe."_

Lamia groaned. He couldn't be serious, could he? But, upon picking up the silver tray for a closer look, her mouth went dry.

"_Love?"_ The star narrowed her eyes. _"Who are you?" _

"_Oh… you don't remember?"_ His face shifted from predatory to a mask of hurt. _"Darling, I'm Jareth, your betrothed."_

The sheer gall left her speechless. Lamia's nails dug into the silver handles so hard it bent them lopsided.

Yvaine put a hand to her neck. _"But I don't remember you." _

"_You hit your head, love. Rest now, I'll explain when you awake."_ Jareth ruffled her hair and stood up. The star blinked, clearly confused, but fatigue took over her willowy limbs. She yawned and laid back down. Jareth stopped at the door with a glance over his shoulder. With what must have been the last of his magic, he forced the curtains shut and lit the room's brass torches.

"_Sleep tight,"_ he said before limping out of the room.

"Unbelievable," Lamia hissed. "I'd be impressed if this didn't cost me so much."

The image shifted back to her still indignant sisters. While white-hot anger spilled through her, Lamia didn't see the need to give either sister the satisfaction. So she met them with a smile.

"Don't be surprised. He's always cheated the rules," Empusa said. "And it'll work by the week's end if you don't do something."

Lamia snorted. "He lost to a human girl. What this any…?"

That girl.

Lamia's words trailed off and she lifted her eyes to scan the piles of refuse. Somewhere a music box, a teddy bear, and several forgotten toys and costumes lay buried. Much like the oubliette, this place was the last stop for forgotten things, the drop-off for objects once valued for the memories attached. Here, a failed attempt to ensnare a silly little girl with her dearest treasures was left to rot, but how many of these once precious items hung around? Perhaps they sang a much more sorrowful tune now.

Whatever the cheeky devil thought to do, he couldn't hide from his past for very long. Lamia turned back to her sisters, her grin now stretched to wolfish lengths.

"The star will do no such thing," she said. "When I'm finished, she'll run as far away from him as possible."


End file.
